Such a Nice Boy
by Hikari Takaishi
Summary: Heavy angst... Takeru has a life that every boy wants. His mother is proud, his friends look up to him, and he pulls off a perfect 4.0. But is he entirely satisfied with himself? What exactly drives him to the problem he faces now? Read n' review, please.


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Such a Nice Boy

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-I don't necessarily blame anyone for what I've become. Everyone assumes perfection is happiness. I don't. Everyone assumes that my life is just fine. I don't. Far from that, in fact. Being looked at as the nice boy gets tiring after a while. People looked at me as the nice _boy who does everything so _nicely. _I'm not always like that. That would be perfection-- I am _NOT_ perfect! Perhaps I am overreacting. I tend to do that a lot now. _

No, I'm not blaming school for what I've become either. Unlike others my age, I enjoy it. That is, before every one started to look at me as the nice boy. I was a straight A student. Determined to make everyone pleased and proud, I took those extra after school activities-the ones that were supposed to release feelings. Basketball came first because I love the sport. Then after I got used to that schedule, I joined drama, yearbook, and the newspaper. That thrilled my mother the most; she was so happy that I took up her hobby…writing.

"Damn it! I got a C?! How can I get a C in math!" Daisuke wailed… He always did this. I thought it was funny when he flipped out about getting a B in PE. How does _anyone_ get a B in PE?

"A B!" Hikari choked, "I've never gotten a B! And in history! … I have a B!"

Great, Hikari-flip-out time. She was Miss Perfect. God forbid she gets a B in _middle school._ Sometimes I wished she would get an F, just to see how some other kids felt come report card day. Don't get me wrong, I've loved this girl from day one and I'd never change my feelings about her. But come on, it's just a B.

"What'd you get?" she asked me.

"Straight A's." I waved the piece of paper proudly.

"I don't get it," Daisuke huffed, "you play basketball, you're in drama, on the yearbook committee, and you still pull off a 4.0!"

"You forgot something," I smirked.

"What now?"

"You're looking at the newest member of the newspaper--"

"You son-of-a! I can't believe how much you're doing!" wailed Daisuke.

"Aw," Hikari teased and squeezed my cheeks, "and he's still such a nice boy!"

I chuckled along with my friends and soon left to go home. Entering my apartment, my mother greeted me weakly. Once I told her the news about the paper, she was hugging me and telling me how proud she was. I was just happy because she was happy.

_-Months later, I was still on a roll. I was titled most valuable player on the basketball team. After that ended, I took up a computer class, still fitting in time on the weekends to play my favorite sport. I figured that I would need computer intelligence for high school. When I adjusted to that schedule, my mom gave me the opportunity to baby-sit a two-year old every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Of course I agreed. Here I was, thirteen years old, juggling baby-sitting, drama, computer class, the newspaper and yearbook, and basketball on the weekends all at once. Amazing what you'd think I could do. But I didn't realize I was slowly killing my own life. _

Stress was being pressed onto my shoulders yet I still kept up with it. I didn't want to let anyone down. Daisuke even turned to me for help; he never even said my name right until I helped him with his math. Hikari started to notice me even more, now that I was leading a successful life. You wouldn't believe how much we would flirt. I didn't want to give that up. So many people looked up to me and were proud. Especially my mother. She was thrilled whenever report cards came. Though tired from all the extra curricular activity, I pulled of straight and solid A's. My mom was so proud… until I brought home my first B.

"TK!" she raised her voice at me, "you have a B in math! You're excellent in math. You practically taught math! You _love_ math!"

"Mom, I _hate_ math," I sighed and sat down on the couch. "The teacher said it was a high B, nearly an A. And I just needed two points to get it up there. I didn't get that two points because you took me to the dentist and I missed a pop quiz. It's nearly an A!"

"But it's not an A. Your perfect 4.0 is ruined…"

"It's middle school, Mom! It doesn't really matter until I get into high school!"

"Don't raise your voice. And just because you're in the eighth grade, that doesn't mean you have to quit trying."

"I didn't quit! It was a hard chapter to cover at the end," I tried to convince, "Yamato shows you C's, why don't you scold _him_?"

"You've proven that you can do better," Mom told me, "don't you want to keep your potential for school?"

-_That made me mad. Was she saying that Yamato wasn't capable of A's? My own mother expected highly of me. Just because of one B, I was lectured to for a whole hour. She made me feel so stupid, inexperienced, and ashamed. I walked into my room while she was still talking, I had had enough. The slam of my door was a warning for her but she didn't get it._

"Just leave me alone!" I yelled through the locked door.

"Takeru, open this door, I want to talk with you."

-_This woman wasn't my mom! My mom would have left me alone by now. What happened to her?_

"Mom!" I yelled again, my voice cracking because I was on the verge of tears, "just leave me alone! Please!"

"What happened to you?" she asked, her own voice quivering, "you used to be such a nice boy."

-_What happened, Mother? I tried my best to make you happy. The more work I put on myself, the happier you were. And now that I slipped on _one_ subject, you think I'm a failure! So what happened? You want to know what happened, Mother? I snapped…_

"I'm sorry," I said to the editor of the newspaper, "but I have to quit. I can't say why--so don't ask. Besides, I wasn't too much help. I'm sure things will turn out just fine for the next paper."

"We'll miss ya, TK," she said sadly. What a bluff.

-

"I can't continue with yearbook," confessed I, "besides, things are nearly finished here. No need for me."

"But you can still take pictures, TK," the yearbook reviser nearly pleaded.

"Nah, sorry."

-

"Yeah, my mom said I had to quit computer class. I'm sorry. Really, it's my loss. Sorry again."

"Sorry to hear, Takeru," the computer teacher shook my hand, "it was a pleasure having such a nice boy in my class."

I twitched and exited.

-

"Leading role is great and all," I stated in my 'superb' acting skills, "but I can't cope with all the pressure. I'm sorry. The understudy is much better than I am, so it'd be better this way."

"Oh! Don't say that, Takeru," the drama coach sighed, "I was looking forward to seeing you and Hikari on stage together."

"Me too," Hikari said, her eyes trying to drift into my mind to find an answer to my problems. I glanced at her, nodded, then left the drama auditorium once and for all.

-

"I can't baby-sit anymore. I have too much to do nowadays," I lied. Now I was nearly free from everything but school and my mom. "I apologize. Best luck to you, ma'am."

"I hope you stay well and keep up in school," the woman smiled at me, "you're such a nice boy."

I gritted my teeth and nodded to her. After that, I walked home ever so slowly. Seven minutes after my curfew, I strolled in through the door of my apartment.

"TK! I've been so worried!" my mom hugged me. I could tell it was a false hug, she was so stiff.

"Sorry. I lost track of time," I lied for the seventy-second time that day.

She smiled warmly--but still falsely, and told me dinner was ready.

"I'm not hungry," I said and walked into my room, "thanks anyway."

Turning on the radio and turning the volume up, I removed the hand knife from my coat sleeve. I had brought it in after paying a man to buy it for me. There was much to say about bums in my mind at that point. But at the moment, all I could think of was how cool that knife looked in my hand. The light reflected off of it and cast a slight glare on my ceiling. Black was the handle, it blended well with the silver. Carefully, I ran my fingers on the silver blade and gripped the flat sides with my index finger and thumb.

It was light to hold, easy to move. A little could-be killer. I was fascinated by the weapon and how easily it could kill. The knock on my door startled me and I grasped the blade with my hand. Just as my mom opened the door, I hid it and my cut hand behind my back.

"Yeah, Mom?" I asked casually through my pain.

"Please turn the radio down," she said quietly," I want you to go to bed soon."

"Okay, Mom."

She shut the door and the knife dropped from my hand. I glanced at the blood and my eyes twitched. It was then that I decided to get a weapon that could kill quickly. If I were to die, I wouldn't want to see my own blood. It made me sick.

I hid the knife and ran into the bathroom to throw up the lunch I had. 

-_Who ever knew blood was such a freaky thing? Well, I guess I wasn't very good with hiding my emotions; Hikari confronted me on my "strange behavior" and asked what was wrong. Ha, where to begin? Should I start at the brink of insanity? Or how about the trouble I went through just to get the gun that was inside of my inner coat pocket while Hikari was confronting me? Maybe I should tell Miss Perfect that she shouldn't be hanging out with a crazy boy. Maybe I should tell her that for all this time I have waited for her to be mine, she played with my heart and hurt me. Maybe I should tell her that I'm not that nice boy she thought she knew for such a long time. Maybe I should just… show… my problems to her._

I stood with my hands in my coat pockets on the fourth step of the second floor. Hikari was standing on the bottom step with her eyes staring into mine. Here she was again, trying to fix everything that needed to be fixed. We hadn't talked for seven whole minutes; she just stared at me and I stared at her. Finally, I unzipped my coat and pulled out the silver handgun that was in my inner pocket. Silver was probably my favorite color now, it could reflect things and make everything look the way they really were.

"Takeru?" Hikari took a step back, wide-eyed, "Takeru, talk to me."

"Nothing to talk about really," I shrugged and raised the barrel of the gun to the side of my head.

"Takeru! Don't even try it. You have so much to live for! Don't quit on yourself!"

"I'm not quitting, damn it! I'm ending it!" I yelled, never dropping the gun, "I'm sick and tired of being the nice boy, coping with the stress, trying to keep my mother happy… Nothing is keeping _me_ happy. Nobody cares about me, so I don't care about him or her. Their nice boy isn't so nice anymore!"

Hikari looked at me with a million emotions racing through her eyes. Fear, pain, sympathy, the tears showed it all. She was just toying with me again. She was going to convince me that everything is just fine and I was overreacting and she'd convince me to drop the gun. Well, she would have if I could still feel those same emotions that I had months ago. I couldn't feel fear, pain, or love anymore; I lost the urge to feel emotions. That's what stress does to a kid.

"But Takeru," she whispered, "_I_ care."

I stood on the fourth step on the stairwell of my apartment building with my finger on the trigger of the gun. As much as I wanted to turn away from this, I knew I couldn't. If I did, I would still live the life of the nice boy. My lips twitched a little and formed into a faint smile. This life of mind was nothing but a joke.

"I'm sorry, Yagami Hikari," I said, way too casually for the amount of tears in my eyes, "but it's far too late for me."

My finger on the trigger tightened and I saw Hikari reach out to me. The loud shot was sounded then everything turned black in my mind. I felt the stress and pressure rise from my shoulders as I finally ended my so-called life… The life that everyone thought was good, the life everyone but myself owned. It was the life that caused me to do this evil act… 

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-Hey, maybe I'm not such a nice boy…


End file.
